Fall Into You (24 page)

Charli’s heart played a riotous beat as Grant guided her none too gently toward the
barn. His jaw was set in a way that warned her to keep her mouth shut. She’d pissed
him off. Again. She didn’t know whether to run from him or throw herself at his mercy.

But for some reason, neither protest nor apology would form on her lips. She feared
the unknown, of what lay behind those big barn doors, but she didn’t fear
him
. Somehow being dragged into a barn in the middle of freaking nowhere by a guy she
barely knew felt right. Part of her
wanted
his wrath, wanted to see him yank off that stoic mask.

Yep, she was officially certifiable.

He pulled up short before they reached the large doors and turned to her. With rough
hands, he yanked off her robe and then took a pocketknife from his belt.

“Stay still,” he said, his tone deadly calm. The blade grazed her skin as he slipped
the knife under the waistband of her panties. She held her breath and squeezed her
eyes shut, but instead of going
cold with terror, her body heated, her sex dampening as the knife sliced through the
cotton/silk. Good God, why would
that
turn her on?

He repeated the process on the other side, then tugged the panties off. He held the
shredded material in his hand, no doubt feeling how wet they were. He cocked an eyebrow
at her, but didn’t comment on it. “Lose the shoes. You walk in with nothing.”

“Yes, sir.” She slipped out of her shoes and wrapped her arms around herself, not
sure if she was shivering from the night air or the way Grant was eyeing her.

Finally, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a key to unlock the barn. The massive
door swung open with a loud creak, piercing the silence around them. Was this really
where his dungeon was? Was he going to make her lie in hay? Her skin itched at the
thought.

But when they stepped in and he flipped on the lights, she realized hay was the last
thing she needed to worry about. The space had been totally converted. Thick beams
supported the impossibly high wood-planked ceiling, and large skylights let the moonlight
in. There was also an open second level, presumably what used to be the storage portion
of the barn, flanking both sides.

But what dominated her line of sight was the massive bed in the center of the room
and the iron ring hanging over it. To a casual observer, the ring would look like
a light fixture, some sort of medieval chandelier to hold candles. But as Charli’s
eyes trailed up the chain that went all the way to the apex of the pitched ceiling,
she knew it had nothing to do with lighting.

Other equipment and cabinets filled different areas, but as his gaze traveled over
the room, she found herself overwhelmed. It was like landing on another planet where
she didn’t quite speak the language. She wet her lips and looked to Grant, shutting
everything else out.

He crossed his arms, his anger still simmering right below the surface. “Get onto
the bed on your knees and face the right wall.”

She glanced at the bed. Hesitated.

“Now,” he said, his voice booming in the cavernous space.

She winced and hurried over the bed, scrambling into position. The mattress was firm
beneath her knees, and the dark red sheets were the only adornment. No fluffy pillows,
no comforter. This was not a place for sleeping.

Grant walked over in no hurry, his boots thudding against the tiled floor like the
slow, steady beat of a bass drum. “Lift your arms above your head, Charlotte.”

This time she knew not to hesitate. He disappeared from her line of sight as she raised
her arms. The sound of metal grinding against metal skittered over her skin, raising
her anxiety. She looked up and saw the iron ring moving downward.
Oh, shit
. She peeked over her shoulder to find Grant leaning against one of the supporting
beams, his finger on a switch.

“Eyes forward.”

She dragged her gaze back to the opposite wall and tried to steady her breathing.
In
.
Out
.
In
…The cranking noise stopped, and music with a heavy beat but no words replaced it.
Grant walked over and stood against the edge of the bed, filling the space in front
of her. He ran his hands along her lifted arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps in
his wake, then circled soft rope around both her wrists. “Tonight I was planning to
take my time and bind you in a beautiful pattern, was going to be gentle with you
since you’re new to this.”

He threaded the other end of the ropes through holes in the contraption above her
head and pulled, leaving hardly any slack. She rubbed her lips together, nervous words
crawling up her throat. “I’m sorry, I—”

“I don’t remember giving you permission to speak,” he said, knotting the rope and
giving her a quelling look.

She choked down her protest.

“It’s too late for apologies, freckles.” He checked the ropes
and her wrists. “You’re my sub. When you put yourself down, you’re insulting me and
my tastes.” He grabbed her chin and brought his face close to hers. “And that pisses
me the fuck off, you understand?”

She winced, his words as effective as that smack to her cheek earlier.

“Yes, sir,” she said, her voice barely loud enough to be heard over the music.

He released her chin and made a frustrated noise. “You think your tits are too small?”

She looked down to the corner of the bed, shame burning through her. Wasn’t this supposed
to be fun? If he was going to enumerate her many flaws, she’d never be able to handle
it. The word
Texas
hovered at the back of her throat.

“You know what I see when I look at them?” He cradled her left breast, then drew her
nipple between his thumb and forefinger until it plumped. “I see pretty pink nipples
that darken and harden at the slightest touch. I see breasts that are so beautifully
sensitive that you have the rare talent to come from that stimulation alone.”

Something cold and metallic touched her nipple. She glanced down right as Grant tightened
the tiny clamp around her flesh. She gasped, the quick snap of pain and pleasure catching
her off guard.

He gave the other breast the same treatment, and then tugged on the light chain connecting
the two clamps. Her head tipped back, the dual sensations shooting straight downward
as if the clamps were connected to her clit instead of her breasts. “Shit.”

He gave her a dark smile as he cupped her sex and slid a finger in with ease. “Mmm,
see what I mean? So hot and slick already. Responsiveness trumps cup size any day.”

She whimpered, her body clenching around him, needing more. The safe word died on
her lips.

He pulled his hand away and brought it to his mouth, sucking her arousal from his
finger. “Responsive
and
sweet.”

The iron rattled above her as she shifted her weight, her need for his touch making
her restless.

He flicked her clamped nipple, causing her to yelp. “Calm down, Charlotte. Patience
is a virtue.”

She clenched her jaw at the sting and had to bite back a sharp retort.

He gave a low chuckle. “Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll make you wait even
longer. This is not about what you want. This is about taking the punishment that
you’ve earned, about hearing what I’m trying to get through that hard head of yours.”

Her wrists wriggled in the bindings. Even with him goading her, her body was getting
hotter, wetter. She didn’t understand the response. She dropped her focus to the sheets.

“Better,” he said, approval coloring his tone. “Now spread your knees.”

She did as she was told and fought hard to keep her eyes down and not peek at what
he was doing. But curiosity won.

Grant turned to the large armoire that flanked the wall behind him and opened the
doors. Charli had to hold back her gasp as the contents came into view. Shelves of
items in boxes filled the interior, but the instruments hanging on the inside of the
cabinet doors were what drew her attention. A coiled whip, lengths of rope, a riding
crop, what looked to be a cane of some sort, and any number of other things she couldn’t
name.

Fear rippled over her. Fear and something else…

Grant turned back around, a small box in his hand. He gave her a wry smile as his
gaze drifted over her body. “I see you like my collection.”

Her brows knitted. Did she? Picking apart the difference between fright and anticipation
was growing murkier and murkier.

“Stop trying to analyze your response, sweet Charlotte. I can hear your cogs grinding
from here. That’s not going to do you any good.” He stepped closer and pulled something
out of the box. “Maybe this will help you get out of your head.”

She glanced down to see a flesh-colored dildo in his palm. The chains rattled again,
her heart now pounding louder than the rock music filtering through the barn.

He tossed the empty box to the side and then tapped her inner thigh with his free
hand. “Spread your legs wider.”

She did, her body acting before her mind caught up. She flinched when he dragged the
cool silicone along her folds, but her muscles trembled in anticipation. He tucked
a finger inside her, readying her, then moved his hand away and inserted the dildo.
She groaned, the fit tight, the sensation intense. Her fingers flexed against the
ropes above as he slid it out a bit, then back in, nudging it deeper. God, was he
going to be this slow and methodical about everything? He was going to drive her mad.

“Very nice, Charlotte. Now squeeze your thighs together. You’re not allowed to let
it slip out.”

She shifted her legs back into position, her body clasping the invasion. Grant removed
something from his pocket and pressed a button. Charli’s body arched as the dildo
hummed to life, vibrating inside her. “Oh…”

Her face tilted toward the ceiling as sensation radiated outward, crawling over her
nerve endings.

“That’s right, darlin’. Give over to it.” Grant gave a little tug on the chain between
her breasts and she jerked, the combination of pain and pleasure almost sending her
right over into orgasm. She yanked at her bindings, desperate for that release, for
that one little extra touch that would trigger it. But he didn’t give it to her.

Grant brushed her cheek, his expression surprisingly tender. “You don’t like your
body. You think you’re too tall, not soft and curvy enough.” He stepped back toward
his cabinet and selected a
riding crop. He faced her, rolling the shaft of the crop between his fingers. “You
know what I see?”

She shook her head, fighting to stay focused despite the throbbing need overtaking
her body. “No, sir.”

“I see an athlete, a woman who can endure more than most, a woman who I don’t have
to worry about crushing when she’s beneath me.” He walked forward and circled the
tip of the crop around her navel. “A woman I can play rough with.”

He snapped the crop against her mound, hitting right above her clit, and her control
nearly shattered. She moaned and canted her hips forward. “Oh, God.”

He smiled and walked around the bed, disappearing from view. But she could sense when
he stopped behind her, feel his stare. “I see a woman who isn’t afraid to bungee jump
off a bridge or go after what she wants. A girl who likes to play at the edge.”

Grant traced the tip of the crop down her spine, sliding it over her sweat-dampened
skin. “And that, sweet Charlotte, is the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

She heard the riding crop slice through the air before it landed with a sharp smack
against her ass. She reared up with a soft moan, the sensation foreign but somehow
exactly what she craved—painful and sweet all at once. The vibrator shifted inside
her and she clamped her thighs tight again, making sure not to let it slide out.

Grant hit her again on the back of her thigh, then on the other cheek. She writhed
against the sting, somehow aching for more.

“That’s right, darlin’. Look how perfectly you respond. Let go and I’ll take you under.”

He increased the speed, landing blow after blow along her ass, her thighs, her back
and shoulders.
Smack. Smack. Smack
. The rhythm of his swats matched the driving beat of the music, sending her senses
into a tumble. Adrenaline flooded her system and her brain began to buzz, a soft,
pleasant hum she could get lost in. She sagged against the bindings, sweat glazing
her skin and her body
pulsing with need. Her sex throbbed around the vibrator, silently begging for the
real thing.

Her fingers curled, her palms opening and closing, searching for a hold on something
as everything inside her seemed to be breaking open. Her breath rasped out of her.
“Grant, sir, please…”

The crop stilled, but the vibrating inside intensified as Grant apparently dialed
up the strength. A groan rumbled out of her, and his boots came back into view. She
closed her eyes, needing every ounce of focus to fight off her release. Her whole
body began to tremble.